


Broken Glass

by EllanaSan



Series: Tumblr Prompts [15]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M, a bit of violence (not too much but still read with caution), some rude words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 07:27:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1257949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllanaSan/pseuds/EllanaSan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Original Prompt : I wanna see some drama between the two.. what about on one of the games Effie gets sick of Haymitch attitude towards their tributes and after she saw them got killed shes had enough and go on a full rampage on him, yelling at him on how he is that he is not helping anyone and she makes the mistake on bringing out his games saying "no wonder Maysilee, got killed, you are selfish..." Haymitch reacts at that and pin her into a wall to the point of almost hiting her or something as huge as that.. of course that was what Effie wanted she wanted him to react so she is not afraid of him when he does that and you can go from there...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Glass

**Author's Note:**

> I repeat there is no real graphic violence but it may be a bit intense, tread carefully. ^^   
> Thanks to Akachankami for the beta.

“You are the most despicable man I have ever met !”

Haymitch laughed, a little bitterly, but let the insult slide on him, more concerned with taking another swallow of wine. “And I bet you have met your fair share of them…”

Effie stopped pacing in front of him to face him properly. If she had been fuming before, now she was livid. “Are you calling me a _tramp_?”

“Whatever rocks your boat, Princess.” He waved his hand tiredly. “Now can you go and shout at someone else? I would like to get drunk in peace.”

They had just lost their… what? sixth pair of tributes together – he has stopped counting in his case – and she was getting madder and madder each year. That year was particularly bad. That year the tributes had been twelve and thirteen and he hadn’t even bothered going down to the sponsors lounge. What was the point? Too young, too skinny, too ugly to appeal to the Capitol masses. They had died within minutes of the Games’ start. Effie had not reacted so well to the slaughter.

“Getting drunk!” she snarled, snatching away the bottle he had made the mistake of not holding tighter. “That’s all you’re good at, isn’t it?”

Yes, it actually was.

“Now, give that back.” he growled lazily. He didn’t want to stand up and walk all the way to the liquor cart.

“Here.” She threw the bottle at the wall. It blew up in a hundreds tiny fragments. “Maybe _now_ you will do something other than sit there.”

“That was a waste of perfectly good liquor.” He propped himself on the armrest to get up, whishing she would just shut up or go annoy someone else. Chaff was always eager to pick a fight with her or she could go and gossip with another escort, they were always clashing with each others.

“You care more for your liquor than you do for the tributes.” she accused him.

“Very true.” He nodded in agreement before stumbling towards the cart. He was a few drinks short of being wasted which was all very good in his opinion. How could she be quicker than him with those horrendous monstrous things she called heels? One second she was behind him, the next she was at the liquor cart and… “ _Don’t_ _you_ _dare_!”

But she _did_ dare. She pushed and it fall in a concerto of broken glass. The reek of alcohol filled the air as liquor soaked into the carpet, her shoes and more generally _everywhere_. Effie had a sneer on her face and was apparently oblivious a piece of glass had nicked at her calf, Haymitch could see the blood trickling on her ankle.

“What are you going to do, now?” she challenged him. “Lick the liquor off the floor? Are you that _desperate_?”

He did know that, had it been anyone else standing in front of him, he would probably have felt more angry than he did. “If _you’_ re so desperate for a fight, go and find someone else. I’m not going into that with you right now.”

He turned around, intending to call an Avox – there was more than one way to get alcohol in this city – but something hit him in the back of the head. He looked down to see a cushion at his feet. Well… At least, she hadn’t thrown another bottle…

“Why are you like that?” The way she said it, it felt like an attack. There was loathing and anger and resentment… All she had _never_ given him before. “You could have helped them.”

He faced her again, noticing the tears gathering in her eyes and the fists she kept clenching and unclenching. “I couldn’t.”

“You _didn’t_.” she yelled. He was quite sure they could hear her three floors down. “You could but you chose to do _nothing_. Like you _always_ _do_.”

“If helping them was so easy then why didn’t you do anything for them?” he replied angrily.

“I am _not_ their mentor!” She advanced on him, an accusing finger pointing in his direction. The pieces of glass crunched when she stomped on them. “I am here to help you _not_ to do your job for you. You did nothing. You sentenced them to death. _You_ _killed_ _them_.”

Each of her words was a knife stabbing his heart. It wasn’t anything he wasn’t already thinking but…

“Did I or _did you_?” he snapped. “Who picked their names? Who brought them here? Who kept nagging at them about _their stupid manners_?”

She looked as if he had just slapped her. She took a step back. “Do you think I have a choice? Do you think resigning is _that easy_ for an escort ? I’m _stuck_ here!”

“Well, so am I!” he shouted back. They stared at each other, furious, a little out of breath, and clearly fed up with the other. “Look, I get you’re upset” he said, at last. “but I am _not_ letting you pile your guilt on me, I have enough of that on my own. Go have a good cry or a drink or even get laid but leave me _alone.”_

“Yes, I’m upset.” She admitted coldly. “There is every reason to be upset. The question is : why aren’t you?”

“Because I don’t care.” He threw his arms up in frustration. “I _don’t_ _give a fuck.”_

“That’s a lie.” she scorned. “You want to pretend you don’t care, that you’re dead inside but that’s a lie!”

“Oh, is it, now?” He could feel the snarl in his voice. He could feel himself getting too angry to deal properly with the situation. He should go away, leave her to her nervous breakdown and go to the eleventh flour where he would be welcomed. “Because you know me _so_ well, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.” Effie growled and he wanted to tell her she was ugly when she sneered like that. “And it kills me when you act like that. Ignoring the pain won’t make it go away. You’re always running away, Haymitch, it’s time to stop being a coward.”

“Coward?” he repeated the word very slowly and very calmly even if he felt anything but that. “ _You_ are calling _me_ a coward ?” His hand gripped the back of the couch tightly.

“You scream for Maysilee in your sleep almost every night.” she spat. “You _beg_ for her forgiveness.”

It was the exact same sensation as having freezing water thrown at your face. He felt sober, too sober to deal with her. “Careful, Trinket.”

But she was like a dog with a bone. “How can you help those children if you can’t even put your own problems to rest?”

She was coming closer, her damn finger accusing him of things he didn’t want to think about and he was about to snap. He could feel himself about to snap. “Don’t go there.” he warned one last time. “You _don’t_ want to go there.”

She was practically in his space now and he stepped back, needing to put some distance between them, but she kept going on and on and walking closer to him. “You couldn’t save her but you could save those tributes. Or you could at least try and you won’t because it’s easier _for_ _you_ to pretend you don’t care.”

“I don’t care.” He growled. “I don’t care about any of it. I would kill them myself if it could just make you shut up!”

Her glare was harsh but less harsh than her words. “No wonder Maysilee got killed. You are _selfish_.”

He slammed her into the closest wall with a hand around her throat. He stilled his fingers at the last moment, stopping himself from squeezing. She was panting hard, her nails were digging into his wrist. He was dying to make her shut up, to make the words disappear, to make _her_ disappear. He could taste bile in his mouth, it tasted like the utter loathing he felt for himself. “Don’t talk about Maysilee _ever again_.” he said slowly, letting go of her throat. There was a glint of fear in her eyes and he hated it, he hated what he had almost done, he hated what he had become. He banged his fist against the wall, just above her head needing an outlet to that rage building in him. She didn’t even flinch. “Shit, Effie, I could have _killed_ you!” He banged against the wall again but all she did was put her arms around his waist. “You need to be more careful, you need to…” She nestled against his chest and he had no choice but to hold her carefully. “I could kill you.” he said again, resting his forehead on her shoulder.

“You would never hurt me.” she clucked her tongue in disapprobation. “Don’t be ridiculous, Haymitch. Of course, you wouldn’t.”

“I almost strangled you.” he whispered. “I almost…” He choked up, he could feel the pressure of tears behind his eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt _you_ …”

She ran her fingers through his hair soothingly. “You didn’t, it’s alright. I’m alright. I went too far. I was out of line.”

He held her a little tighter. “You shouldn’t come close to me. You shouldn’t… I’m dangerous.” But at the same time, he didn’t want her to go away. He was selfish, that much was true.

Her hand was running up and down his back, the other one was still in his hair. She pressed a kiss to his temple. “The problem isn’t that you don’t care enough, Haymitch.” she sighed. “It’s that you care too much. I wish you could just see that sometimes… But I shouldn’t have said any of that. I apologize.”

“I nearly hurt you and you’re apologizing.” he mumbled against her shoulder. “That’s not right. You should be afraid of me. You should see…”

“See what?” He could hear the frown in her voice.

“I’m a _monster_.” he whispered, closing his eyes and holding on to her like she was the only thing keeping him alive. “I’m _broken_.”

“Haymitch.” She forced him to lift his head to look at her. Her face was stern and a bit sad. “I could never be afraid of you. I trust you. I trust you not to hurt me, I trust you to be honest with me and I would trust you with my life if I had to. You are broken, yes, but you’re _not_ a monster. You’re my friend.” Friend. _Friends with a Capitol gal, bah_ , Chaff had said countless times, but _she_ _was_. “You’ve got nothing to feel guilty about. You’re a good man who had been through things no one should have to face. If one of us is guilty, I am, you’re right about that.”

He frowned. “Because of the reapings?” He shook his head sadly. “You or another escort… It would happen anyway, sweetheart.”

She lowered her eyes and leaned against him more freely. “It doesn’t help me sleep at night.”

“Better to regret than not to care.” he said. “Those kids… It’s better for them to die quickly. I know it’s harder for you when they’re that young but…”

“It’s hard for me no matter their age.” She bit her lower lip anxiously. “I can’t talk to anyone about this but you.”

He gently took hold of her chin and forced her to look at him. “You _don’t_ talk to anyone about this but me. It’s dangerous, Effie.”

“I know.” She sighed. “I know. It’s just that… Sometimes, I feel like you’re the only thing I have and it’s hard to see you being so… detached.” The only thing she had? How sad for her. She deserved more, so much more. “I feel so _alone_ when you get like that.”

Some tears escaped her eyes and rolled down her cheeks, he kissed them away without even thinking about it. “I’m sorry.” He wished he could promise he would change. He wished he _could_ change. But he had never really lied to her and he wasn’t about to start now. “I’m sorry.” His mouth brushed against hers in an apology or a request, he wasn’t totally sure. “I’m…” he whispered one last time, but she kissed the _sorry_ away. She tasted like the mint cake they had for desert, she kissed him with a deliberate slowness, deepening the kiss until he couldn’t take it anymore. He pinned her against the wall again, lifting her up so her legs could lock around his waist. Her dress rode up and his fingers explored the smooth skin of her thighs. His mouth trailed against her jaw, her hands were efficiently undoing the buttons of his shirt… She nearly tore the shirt in two in her impatience to get rid of it but he didn’t even notice because she was kissing him again and it was _glorious_.

“Bed.” she moaned when he was nibbling at her neck. “ _Now_.”

“Bossy.” he commented, trying and failing to make sense of the intricate piece of clothing she was wearing. How did you get rid of those dresses?

She took his head in her hands and forced it off her chest. “I’m not having sex in a room where anybody could come in at any minute. Bed, now.”

He kissed her but stepped back long enough for her to get down from where he was pinning her. He didn’t particularly entertain the thought of being caught by an Avox while they were doing… that. Bed, it was. If he could stop kissing her long enough to get there. “If it always ends up with sex, we will never stop fighting.” she said, breathlessly and probably desperately too.

Truer words had never been spoken, though.


End file.
